Shadows in the Corridor
by Bessyboo
Summary: DEAD [Cowritten with Lara Bykirk.]
1. 8:30, September 2nd, 2020-Harry Potter

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Harry Potter nervously shuffled papers around on his desk. He had five minutes until the students would be arriving. Five looooooong minutes. He paced between the door to his office and his desk. He was too nervous to stay still. 

He went into his office. He looked down at his office desk, which held several pictures of his friends and family. There was his family photo, taken several years ago, showing him standing next to his wife, Ginny Weasley. Ginny was holding their now five year old daughter, Lily, who was named after Harry's mother. 

He glanced at the picture next to it. It was of his best friends (and in-laws), Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. He had been friends with them since their very first year at Hogwarts, when they were all eleven. Ron and Hermione were married now, and the picture showed them with their children: Ellyn, 10, William, 7, and Gwenna, 5. They lived in Hogsmede, in a house very near to the Hogwarts grounds. 

Gwenna was best friends with Lily, and since neither were attending classes at Hogwarts, as they were too young, but since both lived at (or near) Hogwarts, the possibilities were endless. They could usually be seen at the Hogwarts library, under the close watch of Cho Chang, the Hogwarts librarian Quidditch historian. If they weren't in the library, they were most likely using floo powder to get over to "Brooms and Balls", Gwenna's father's Quidditch supply shop, where he let them play around in the warehouse in back. Yes, Harry thought, Lily and Gwenna didn't know how good they had it. 

Harry's eyes slid to the next picture. It was of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team, for which he had been seeker, up until the end of last season. Harry was right in the middle of the picture, decked out in navy blue Quidditch robes. He sighed. He remembered his early Quidditch years well. He traveled around with the team, playing here, apparating there. Then he married Ginny, and sort of semi settled down. After a game he would apparate back home, put Lily to bed, and fill Ginny in on the events of the game. But that was then, and he was far too old now. So this year he was teaching at Hogwarts, filling the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

His eyes slid to the next picture. It was the beginning-of-the-year picture of the Hogwarts staff. There was Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, looking very stern, as usual. Next to her stood Hermione, who was the Transfiguration teacher. The photograph didn't show it, but she was an Animagus. A very distinguished raven, actually, with one white tail feather. Harry was next in line, and after that was Oliver Wood, also a retired Quidditch player for Puddlemere United. Oliver was the Flying teacher at Hogwarts. Then there were some teachers that Harry didn't know so well: Professor Seer, of Divination, Professor Vector, of Arithmancy, Professor Llythwar of Care of Magical Creatures, and some others. After them were Professor Snape, still Potions teacher, and Mr. Malfoy, the Gamekeeper. Sandwiched in between them was Professor Ginny Weasley, the Muggle Studies teacher (and his wife), looking very nervous. 

Harry thought back to the events that had left Draco penniless and friendless. When Voldemort had fallen, the Death Eaters with him, including Lucius Malfoy, had been thrown into Azkaban, to be guarded faithfully by giants, werewolves, and other creatures that replaced the traitor Dementors. Draco Malfoy, of course, was crushed. As he was no longer rich, all of his friends deserted him. No one trusted him enough to give him a job. Because of this, when he was offered a job as the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, he swallowed what was left of his pride, and took it. 

The last person in the picture was Mr. Creevy, the caretaker. He still looked like an overgrown chipmunk, and he still worshipped Harry. Harry remembered the day he had first arrived at Hogwarts to teach. Colin had, catching sight of him, dropped the broom he was carrying, and cried, "Harry! I mean sir! I mean… you're teaching here! Sir!" 

"Call me Harry, Colin," said Harry. Colin gave a little yelp, and almost fainted. Harry, in the days that followed, tried not to be too annoyed at the Caretaker. He had forgotten just how enthusiastic Colin could be. 

Harry was started out of his memories by the sound of the door opening and closing, and many feet shuffling across the room. He took a moment to collect himself, and then went out to face the class. It was first year Griffyndor. The students looked a little nervous, but excited. After all, their teacher was the great Harry Potter, who defeated the Dark Lord before he was two, who was instrumental in his final downfall, who was winner of three World Cups, and who, in his whole life, was only beaten once at Quidditch, when Dementors sabotaged the match. 

"Well," said Harry, looking down on the bright, expectant faces, "How nice to see you all here. In this class, you will be learning how to defend yourself from harmful creatures and spells. This year you will learn about more common dangerous creatures and part- humans. Now, please tell me your names." 

"Jerik Noams, sir."   
"Ben Taft."   
"Nan Roaldson."   
"Lucy Miller." 

"Prudence Weasley." The speaker was the tall, pretty, red-headed daughter of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Percy Weasley, and his wife, Penelope Clearwater. Mr. Weasley, a close acquaintance of Harry's, was the youngest Minister of Magic that England had ever had. He had been promoted only that year. 

"Marc Chat."   
"Wynd Fletcher."   
"Peter Dace."   
"Leah West."   
"Poppy Deepvale." 

Harry listened while each child said their name. Most of the time, he could tell a lot about their personality, just from how they spoke. Jerik and Ben sounded awed to see their hero at last. Nan and Lucy sounded excited, nothing more. Prudence sounded VERY bossy. Marc spoke with a definite French accent. Wynd was soft-spoken, and there was a hint of distance in his voice. Peter and Leah were more down to earth, but still sounded shy. Poppy's voice made him wince. It was too much like Rita Skeeter's for his comfort. Nevertheless, they seemed like nice kids. Maybe his first day wouldn't be so bad after all. 


	2. 8:30, September 2nd, 2020-Ron Weasley

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Ron Weasley hummed as he walked into the kitchen, where he found the family houself, Winky, cooking pancakes, his favorite breakfast. He was in a very good mood, until Ellyn and William came down the stairs, quarreling about whose turn it was to watch Gwenna. Since neither were at Hogwarts yet, but were both older than Gwenna and Lily, they were supposed to take turns watching them. But this chore resulted in so much quarreling that Lily and Gwenna usually ended up being watched by Ron, Cho, or Fred and George, Gwenna's twin uncles, who ran a joke shop in Hogsmede. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny were unable to watch them, because they, of course, had to teach classes. Gwenna and Lily liked it when no one was watching them, though. They didn't mind much being watched by Ron or Cho. Cho was always extremely busy, restacking books, scanning through Quidditch resources, and updating records, or helping kids with their homework. Because of this, they could usually find some quiet corner, that Cho couldn't see. In Brooms and Balls, Ron would always let them play in the supply room in back, while he helped customers out front. And Fred and George. What has Gwenna said about them? "The coolest uncles any kid could have!" 

Ron ran a hand through his bright red hair. He was never as good at solving problems as his wife. 

Speaking of Hermione, there was a note from her on the kitchen table: 

Dear Ron,   
Please remember to pay Winky. The Envelope is on   
my dresser. Food for lunches is in the cupboard next to the   
stove. 

Love, Hermione 

He shook his head. Ever since their fourth year at Hogwarts, Hermione had been campaigning for house elves to be paid. Her enthusiasm had somewhat abated since then, but when she and Ron had bought their own house, she had immediately started looking for an out-of-work house elf. 

Ron got the envelope to give to Winky. She took it and opened it. "Thank you, sir," she said in her high, squeaky voice. "I always likes your little notes, sir. Dobby was right when he said that you was a kind sir. I'm glad that you doesn't make me get _paid, _sir." She shuddered. 

"That's all right, Winky," said Ron weakly. He walked out of the kitchen, and into the dining room, where Ellyn and William were now having a fist fight over who would take care of Gwenna. Ron pulled Ellyn (who had bruises up and down her arms) off William (who was down on the floor, and had a bloody nose), sent them both to their rooms, gently pushed Gwenna out the door, instructing her to go to Lily's, strode briskly out of the kitchen, and apparated to Diagon Alley. He was quite relived to get out of the house, actually. 

He took a deep breath, then turned the key in the lock. 


	3. 8:30, September 2nd, 2020-Hermione Grang...

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Hermione Granger looked up from the book she was reading (The Life of Merlin: A Day-by-Day Study, Volume 23) when the bell rang. She sighed, put it down, and went into the classroom. 

The students filed in slowly and reluctantly. They were third-year Slytherin, and heartily disliked Hermione, with her concise manner and love of virtue. Not that there was any love lost between them. Hermione took no excuses for late homework or inattention from any student, but less than none from the bullies and skulkers of the school. 

When all of the students had slouched to their seats Hermione looked around, waiting for them to quiet down. They did so quickly, no doubt remembering former incidents. 

"Hello, class," she began. After a moment, when no one answered, she went on. "This week we shall review elementary Transfiguration. 

"As you know, there are three basic kinds of Transfiguration. The first and simplest type is the Switching Spell, which makes two objects switch forms. The second type is the Changing Spell, which changes one part of something into something else. We will go over both later this week. 

"The third type is the Turning Spell. Turning spells actually turn one thing (the object) into something else (the revision). They are binomial, meaning that they consist of two words. 

"The first word shows the class of the revision and how long the transformation is to last. There are several classes: inanimate objects, plants, animals, and beings that do magic are the chiefs, 'though there are others. However, it is impossible to turn anything into a dead organism or a ghostly figure. The classes have different levels of complexity, with inanimate objects being the lowest and magical beings as the highest. Yes, Caleb?" 

A sharp-nosed, pale-skinned boy shifted momentarily in his seat under his teacher's direct gaze. "Why can't you just transfigure a dead person into who they once were? You can transfigure dead things, after all." 

"Good question!" said Hermione, sounding surprised that one of this class had thought of it. "There are two main reasons. First is the matter of detail. Humans are amazingly complex animals. Now, if one does not specify any details, your object would turn into an average human: average height, weight, color of hair, etc. You would have to specify all the specific details. That is nearly impossible to do. Are any of you Muggle-born?" Nobody raised their hand. "Ah," said Hermione, looking a trifle disappointed. "If you were, you would see that with all the genes of the thirty-nine chromosomes...." They looked at her blankly. "Oh, never mind!" 

"Anyway, on the matter of detail. Even if one was able to get the appearance right, they would have to tackle the memory of the person. Totally impossible. Memories are so complex. The measure of specific information needed is astounding, with all the vague, crystal-clear, fading, or lurking-in-the-back-of-the-mind-type memories. 

"The second reason that you can't transfigure a dead person into a live one is the matter of power. Although the spell shows what is to happen, one must concentrate exceedingly hard in order for it to work. Every detail one adds on increases the amount of concentration needed. Supposing one could know all of the details, it would be well-nigh impossible to get the spell to work. 

"Also, the further the classes are apart in complexity the more concentration you need. Although dead organisms don't technically have a class, most experts agree that if they did it would be on a level with inanimate objects, the furthest away from magical beings. 

"The last tax on power is how long you want the person to be transfigured for. Of course, you would want them to stay in their revision forever. However, the longer you want the object to stay in its revision the harder it is. 

"With those three things combined, the level of power needed is literally incomprehensible. It just can't be done." Hermione looked momentarily disgruntled at admitting that anything was impossible. "Does that answer your question, Caleb?" 

The boy dazedly nodded. It appeared that the explanation had been more than he had bargained for. 

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, the first word. As I was saying, the main part of the first word is the revision's class. To the end of this is added a suffix specifying how long the object is to be transformed. The suffixes that we shall use this year are -el (one minute), -nel (ten minutes), -trinel (half an hour), -un (an hour), -trun (three hours), -hexun (six hours), -pelun (twelve hours), and -yd (a day). There are of course, many more, all the way up to forever. 

It is always better to transfigure a thing for too long than too short a time. If you are finished you can undo your transfiguration, but you can't be helped if the rope you're climbing turns back into your hat half-way. 

"The second word gives more detail. Every species of animal or plant has its own word, as does every kind of object. To the word of the revision you can add suffixes denoting details. There are millions of such endings, but I won't go over any right now. 

"Are there any questions?" 


	4. 8:30, September 2nd, 2020-Draco Malfoy

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WARNING: this section is very intense. We don't usually write like this, but it was necessary. Don't get scared off! This is almost as bad as it gets. 

The small hut was dark. Heavy shades were pulled over the few windows. Malfoy sat at the wooden table, brooding. Harry Potter was at Hogwarts. 

All that the name Harry Potter stood for was poison to Malfoy. Disgrace, ruin, impoverishment, defeat. That mudblood-loving fool! Nay, more than a fool. He was a favored knave, a vile blackguard, rolling in the slime of his Muggle mother. And all the teachers had liked him over Malfoy, a proud pureblood, with no reason for shame. 

Malfoy's claws clicked as he tapped them against the table. In his seventh year, he had fashioned magically retractable claws for himself. When he chose, his hands looked like any other man's, except for a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on each palm. (A/N: How ironic can you get?) But when he chose, a sheath of molten iron covered each finger, ending in a four-inch-long diamond claw. Each claw was wickedly sharp, and could cut through steel. 

Every piece of furniture in the one-room hut was pitted and gouged, from when Malfoy fell into one of his wild rages. Those, though not common, were terrible to behold. He shrieked like a banshee, and tore 'round the room like a fury. His claws darted out, and shredded anything weaker than wood. The people at the castle dreaded these times, though few, if any, knew what caused them. The bravest first-years huddled, terrified, under blankets, long after the sounds had stopped, while fourth-years, only a degree less frightened, dared to lay down two hours after the noise had abated. Even Professor McGonagall, as stern and implacable as always, could not bring herself to sleep through the fits, and she was half deaf. 

Malfoy was not raging now. He was the very picture of cool calculation. His brow was furrowed, as it always was, and his mouth was pulled into a frown, put no sign of frustration touched his narrowed eyes. 

This time, he would show Potter! He would wipe Hogwarts clean of Mudbloods and Muggles! Everyone would see that Draco Malfoy was great. All the teachers that had shunned him would beg to kiss his robes when he was finished. He would flay the souls from their bodies! He would release upon them a pack of death-loving hounds, who would devour them and leave only dry husks. And then where would Harry Potter be? 

A sound echoed over the Hogwarts grounds. It rang through the corridors and the rooms. All who heard it felt the marrow freeze in their bones and their heart sink. It was worse than the shrieking and howling that had come before. 

It was the sound of a laugh. 


	5. 8:30, September 2nd, 2020-Ellyn Weasley

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"Oy, noodle brain!" Ellyn Weasley felt herself being shaken awake. She opened her eyes. Her brother, William, was standing over her. 

"What is it, William?" she said, annoyed.   
"Wake up! Mum's already left for work, and dad's getting ready to leave."   
"Your point would be?"   
"Duh! It's your turn to take care of Gwenna and Lily!" Ellyn sat upright.   
"'Tis not! It was my turn yesterday!"   
"Then how come I couldn't find you anywhere, and had to end up taking care of them myself?" 

Ellyn was beat, even she knew it. She just couldn't _bear _it if anybody knew her secret, besides herself, Jessi, and Hubert. You see, Ellyn had secretly taught herself to apparate. One day, when she was six, she was taking a walk, early in the morning in Hogsmede, where she lived, and stumbled across some books in the gutter. She picked them up, and started flipping through them. She soon found out that the books were "Teach yourself to apparate" books. She took them home with her, and slowly, over the years, she taught herself to apparate. She was doing pretty well, too, practicing apparating up the stairs, and such. 

The first time she tried apparating over a long distance, however, turned into quite a mess, and that's where Hubert came in. Hu was her favorite cousin, and she tried to visit him, by apparating to Romania, where he, her Uncle Charlie, and his wife lived. But she hadn't had enough practice, and she accidentally _splinched_ herself. My, was he surprised when half of Ellyn showed up in his living room! He managed to sort her out before anyone else saw, and then she told him her story. Hu laughed, and agreed not to tell anyone. 

Ellyn glared at William. "You didn't _have_ to look after them. It's your own fault that you took care of them." 

"Well, I'm going downstairs. Coming?"   
"Hmmm...."   
"Winky's cooking _pan_cakes," he said in a taunting voice. 

Ellyn knew well that it was a trap, but decided to take the bait. "Oh, all _right_." As she got dressed, William continued to argue with her. They kept arguing as they went down the stairs, and into the hall. "Morning!" said their father, cheerfully. They didn't even hear him, they were so busy arguing. Ron shook his head, and went into the kitchen, muttering, "They're worse than a flock of owls." 

"You little!" Ellyn was screeching by now.   
"I'm not little!"   
"Yes you are!"   
"SILENCE!" Ron had entered the room.   
"Daddy, he-"   
"Daddy, she-"   
"ENOUGH!" 

He pulled Ellyn and William off each other, as Gwenna watched from behind the armchair, with terrified eyes. He gave them a not-so-gentle shove up the stairs. "I'm tired of all this useless bickering. I want both of you to go up to your rooms, and stay there until you're ready to apologize to each other. Is that clear?" Ellyn and William pretended to look sorry. "Good. Now _go_." 

Ellyn headed up the stairs, muttering about how it was all William's fault. She slammed the door to her room, then sat on her bed, and listened. In a few minutes, she heard the front door open and close, and a call of "By, Daddy!" Several minutes after this, she heard the familiar swish of her father's cloak, and he was gone. She peeked out of her bedroom door. There was no one in the house besides William, whose bedroom door was still closed, and she could hear him throwing things around his room. 

"It's definitely," she thought, "time to go see Jessi." 

She changed out of her robes, and got into what she called her "Summertime American" clothes (a sky blue tank top, pink biking shorts, and white cloth sneakers, embroidered with flowers). Then, she stood in the middle of her bedroom. A few seconds later, she had materialized on a sidewalk. A warm summer breeze ruffled her hair. She looked up, and saw the familiar, welcoming green street sign, which read, in big white block letters: ASHLAND AVENUE. She turned around, and saw Jessi running toward her. She met her half way, and the two girls embraced each other. 

Jessica Martinez was a nice girl, of average height and thin as wire. Her two favorite colors were purple and green, and her clothes reflected this. She was wearing a sparkly purple tube top, bright green biking shorts, one purple sock, and one green one (her socks were _never_ matching), and purple cloth sneakers with green laces. She had braces on her teeth, and the bands on them were metallic purple and bright green, in an alternating pattern. Her hair was pulled back into two ponytails, one on each side of her head, with (yep, you guessed it) one green hair binder and one purple one. 

"Yo, Ellyn! Want some gum?" she said pulling a king-size pack out of her pocket. Ellyn looked at her suspiciously. 

"I thought you weren't supposed to chew gum with your braces."   
"I don't give a crap what my orthodontist says," she said, stuffing two more pieces into her mouth. Reluctantly, Ellyn took a piece of gum. 

"So, what's been going on while I was gone?"   
"Well, we just submitted our entry form for the Snow Sculpting Contest."   
"But it's only _September_!"   
"Kinda stupid, I know. But that's how far in advance some people plan. What are you here for, anyway?"   
"(sigh) Well, I actually came to escape Will. He's being such a jerk right now. Poor little Gwenna had to watch our fist-fight on the living room floor this morning. Poor kid. Dad's seemed a little fed up with our fighting lately. He practically _stomped_ out the door this morning. I just need to relax a little."   
"How 'bout some music? I got the new Britney Spears CD..."   
"Well...alright. Let's listen to your favorite song."   
"Great! Here it is." 

Ellyn had a great time with Jessi, gossiping, playing board games, and just having fun in general. Soon Jessi's father called them to lunch, and as they raced down the stairs, Ellyn thought: "I can't believe how lucky I am to have been blessed with such a great friend. Sure, we're different, but we're both ten-year-old girls from wizarding families. I can't imagine my life without Jessi." 

As they raced down the stairs, Ellyn Weasley smiled to herself. 


End file.
